


Lexa, Warrior Heda.

by GreyWolves



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Xena: Warrior Princess, Ancient History, Angst and Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, Clarke is a Healer, Commander Lexa, Crossover, F/F, Greek and Roman Mythology - Freeform, Heda Lexa, Historical Fantasy, LGBTQ Themes, LexaLivesOn, NO LGBT deaths!, Protective Clarke, badass fights
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-27 18:28:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13886598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyWolves/pseuds/GreyWolves
Summary: In a time of ancient gods, warlords and kings, a land in turmoil cried out for a hero. She was Lexa, a mighty Commander forged in the heat of battle. The power... the passion... the danger. Her courage will change the world.(The 100/Xena: Warrior Princess crossover.)Lexa and Clarke run aroud around the ancient world helping people and being badass. It starts out very Clarke (The 100) central but will switch to more of a Lexa (Xena) story as it goes on. All feedback welcome! It makes the story better!





	1. The Thelonious Bride     Part I

Lexa sits on the ground, with her back against a tree, watching Clarke sleep peacefully upon her bedroll. The sun had risen maybe an hour ago, but the composed warrior couldn’t bring herself to wake the young healer right away. Instead, she flexes her hand and tests the range of movement in her arm. She had taken the sling off days ago despite Clarke's umbrage and exasperated looks, Lexa had found it all quite amusing.

 

The sharp sound of metal on metal and the cry of a battle in the distance abruptly wakes Clarke; she sits up, looks around and takes in the world. They are in a bright forest, west to the River Rhine. It is morning, and the fire beside her has died but the day is warm.

 

"It’s okay. You’re safe,” Lexa says calmly.

 

Clarke turns to look at her. "What is that?"

 

"A skirmish nearby. Probably raiders; there are many in this area." Lexa stands and reaches for their supply pack. "We should move on."

 

"Lexa, we have to help," Clarke insists, scrambling to her feet. People could be hurt. Clarke’s instinct is to help them; she is a healer, she could help them.

 

"If we die _here_ in a petty clash we will never make it to Western territories. We will never rescue all those trapped by The Mountain," Lexa says, leaning down to pick up Clarke's bedroll.

 

Clarke watches Lexa methodically clear the camp; listens to the noise from the fight and she thinks, _it’s not okay_ , _it’s not so simple_ , she doesn’t want to be the person who walks the other way. _Not again_. So, she runs – she runs towards the fight before Lexa can convince her that the risk is too high, that the mission is what’s important.

 

“Clarke!” Lexa drops the supplies and runs after her.

 

A group of tattered raiders are ambushing a Roman convoy. There is a girl atop a horse that all the Roman soldiers seemed to have circled in a defensive strategy. Clarke runs into the road and withdraws the dagger that Lexa had given her – she doesn’t doubt that Lexa is a second behind her, sword out and ready to fight alongside. Clarke rushes the nearest raider, stabbing him in the shoulder; he cries out, and she pulls him back by the throat, away from the convoy. Another one turns at the cry of his companion and charges at the newcomer, Clarke flinches, but Lexa is there, blocking his downward attack with her sword and then countering with a swift strike to his gut; he falls, and Lexa turns to glare at Clarke.

 

Clarke shrugs before lunging towards another raider.

 

The battle finishes quickly after Clarke and Lexa intervene. The scummy raiders retreat, not interested in fighting the additional warriors; they scatter into the woods and the Romans pat themselves on their backs by raising their weapons into the air and cheering.

 

Clarke approaches the convoy before Lexa has a chance to pull her back by her arm.

 

"Thank you," says one of the Romans who was closely guarding the girl on the horse during the fight. “I am Bellamy.” He holds his arm out, and Clarke takes it in a warrior grasp.

 

“Clarke. This is Lexa,” Clarke motions behind her, only imagining the reprimanding look that she would be receiving from the warrior. "Where are you headed, Bellamy?" She lets his arm go and looks over the weary band of soldiers.

 

"Thelonious."

 

Clarke gives a small smile. "I went there once as a kid, with my father. We can travel with you."

 

Lexa speaks up. "Then we must continue on. We have our own mission to complete."

 

Bellamy nods. "I appreciate the assistance."

 

Lexa flicks her sword up, around, and swiftly sheaths it at her waist. "You’re quite the well-armed convoy. What are you transporting?"

 

"Me," the girl atop the horse says, looking down at the pair.

 

Clarke's eyes go wide, and she turns to Lexa, who doesn’t look too surprised at the development.

 

Bellamy looks up at the girl. "Octavia," he warns her in a low voice.

 

"Why don’t you tell them the truth, Bell. They did just help us,” the girl spits, frustrated.

 

The other roman soldiers watch the exchange cautiously, shifting closer.

 

"Yes. The truth." Clarke turns back to face Bellamy.

 

"Octavia is my sister,” he offers reluctantly. “Our guardian – General Servilius – has arranged for her to marry a landowner’s son named Atom."

 

Lexa smirks, she understands these types of deals. "What does Servilius get in return?"

 

Bellamy looks to Lexa. "Use of the land. He wants to build more barracks in this area since Caesar’s forces are pushing closer to the River Rhine."

 

Caesar is pushing east, and this could equate to war once again. Lexa is already thinking up a thousand scenarios for her people. "How did this Servilius become your guardian?"

 

Bellamy swallows and looks down. "After our mother died, he sent me to train in Caesar’s army and Octavia—"

 

"Gets to be sold like cattle," Octavia sneers through clenched teeth.

 

Clarke takes a step forward. "Bellamy, this isn’t right."

 

"I know." Bellamy looks up. "We don’t have a choice." He sounds broken. He looks broken. There is a darkness in his eyes that has been placed there over time. These siblings are trapped.

 

"We should keep moving," one of the Centurion’s interrupt, his hand resting on the handle of his longsword, emphasising Bellamy’s and Octavia’s exact situation.

 

These are Servilius’s men, Clarke realises.

 

Lexa shifts closer to Clarke like she’s realised the same thing.

 

Bellamy nods to the other Roman then turns back to Clarke and Lexa. "We would appreciate the aid, but I understand if you don’t want to get involved."

 

Lexa sighs, she already knows what Clarke is going to say.

 

"We’ll go with you to Thelonious."

 

* * *

_The healer's hut is basic and dirty. The Empire has underfunded the Rhine's edge for decades. It is cleaner in the larger cities. In Arkadia, the people trade and work with the tribes to stay alive. They hunt together and fight together. When the legions pass through, the Arkadians manage to keep their alliance downplayed._

_Clarke roughly scrubs the blood off her hands into a deep bowl of river water._

_“You did well today, Clarke.” Abigail stuffs the blood-soaked blankets into a sack to wash in the river later._

_Clarke wipes her hands on a rag and faces her mother. “The Clans are getting more violent. Indra thinks that civil war is unavoidable.”_

_Abby sighs and wipes the sweat from her brow. “We are too involved already. I want to help but when does the risk become too great for us, Clarke?”_

_They finish packing up, leave the tent and the night healers take over._

_When they arrive home, Clarke's father has venison meat cured on stone slabs out the back of the poorly built stone house. Clarke is used to the smell of blood and flesh, it follows her everywhere. The deerskin is drying on a rack, and it will make a worthy addition to the household stock._

_Jake greets them as they approach, encompassing them both in a long, warm hug._

_Abby and Jake cook the meat over a massive fire, and Clarke wonders into the forest to collect some seasoning for the meal; she finds some edible mushrooms, some rosemary and some overripe figs. The satchel, resting lightly over her shoulder, is full enough that she is almost ready to head back home. She can hear the voices and the movements of her people, but she is just far enough away that can pretend that she is all alone, that there is no fighting, no pain, no Romans, no Germanics, only nothing._

_Then she appears out of nowhere._

_A tribal girl lunges out of the thicket, crashing into Clarke, and they both topple over, landing harshly on the forest floor._

_Clarke groans and pushes herself up and onto her knees._

_The woman is breathing rapidly while clutching at her side. It doesn’t look like she has the strength to rise again._

_Clarke rolls her onto her back and feels the skin of her face. The stranger has a terrible fever. “Who are you?”_

 

"She’s The Commander, isn’t she?" Octavia asks, sitting down next to Clarke by one of the campfires.

 

The convoy set up camp in a small clearing by building a series of tiny fires and laying down furs on which to rest. The Centurions seemed to have a simple routine, a couple went to refill the water-skins, a few gathered their arrows into a quiver and went hunting – leaving their heavy weapons behind – and some started patrolling the area, ever suspicious of the night.

 

Clarke’s eyes automatically go to Lexa, who is standing watch by the tree line. "Yes, she is."

 

Octavia follows Clarke's line of vision, and she smirks as Lexa glares at some of the Romans who are chatting nearby. "It’s okay; I won’t tell anyone. I know Caesar has a bounty on her head."

 

"Thank you," Clarke breathes and genuinely means it. It’s almost jarring now when someone tries to protect them. She is too used to being hunted these days.

 

"Where are you from?"

 

Clarke thinks about lying – she has done it many times before... "Arkadia." The truth slips out so effortlessly, and it surprises Clarke.

 

Octavia's eyes widen in shock. "I heard about Arkadia. Roman's razed the town."

 

Clarke dips her head once. "You seem to know a lot."

 

"I wasn’t allowed to leave home. Ever." Octavia takes in a deep breath. "I read a lot. I ask people questions; get told war stories."

 

"And what did you hear about Arkadia?" Clarke is curious about the stories, about how Caesar has likely twisted everything. 

 

"The Arkadians helped the Germanic tribes, aided them, healed them, gave them supplies. Caesar had the place burnt to the ground because of it."

 

Clarke swallows. It sounds so simple when Octavia tells it, when in fact, it was so much more complicated. "Yeah... That’s right."

 

"Did The Commander save you?"

 

Clarke turns her hands in front of the fire; she feels the heat, watches the smoke and lets herself remember... "Lexa got me out. We left everyone else. We let them burn." She swallows the emotions down. She doesn’t let herself feel it. _Not now_.

 

Octavia watches the way Clarke's eyes get this intensity as she talks about their shared past. "You’re angry at her for that," she realises out loud.

 

Clarke nods. "I am." Clarke is angry all the time. It's like a hot rage under her skin that she cannot calm. "A roman Captain called _The Mountain_. He led the attack; then he took a hundred slaves including my mother."

 

"That’s the mission that The Com— Lexa, was talking about."

 

Clarke nods again.

 

Octavia decides to change the topic, only slightly. "Are the stories about her true?"

 

Clarke chuckles darkly. "Which ones?"

 

* * *

 

Lexa watches as Octavia and Clarke talk and laugh by the campfire, the glow of the flames highlights Clarke’s face, Lexa feels breathless, but she remains stoic and still as the Roman soldiers walk around her guardedly.

 

There is a shadow lurking, blending within the trees. Lexa quietly withdraws her sword and slinks back into the dark; she manages to sneak up behind him as he watches the camp through the trees, he is a warrior from a Germanic tribe, he has leather clothes and dark ink across his marred skin.

 

He is so focused on the convoy that he doesn’t sense when Lexa approaches and flicks the tip of her sword to hold beneath his chin.

 

 "Why are you following them?" Lexa asks and when he doesn’t answer, she twists the blade, so it puts more pressure on his throat. "Speak!”

 

The man licks his lips. "I wanted to make sure... that they got to Thelonious. Safe."

 

He knows that they are travelling to Thelonious. "Octavia," Lexa adds, and the man nods solemnly. "You want to protect her."

 

He nods again.

 

Lexa sighs and lowers the blade, moving it away from his throat. He must know about the land deal also. There is only one reason he would know all the intimate details of this mission. Lexa can see the truth in his eyes. "You love her."

 

This time his head dips, defeated. "She will marry another."

 

"From what I understand, that is not what she wants."

 

The man clenches his fists. "No, it isn’t."

 

Lexa looks back towards Clarke. "Then I guess we will have to help you."

 

The man looks up at Lexa, confused. "Why would you help us?"

 

"What is your name?"

 

"Lincoln."

 

"Well, Lincoln..." Lexa lets her eyes fall to meet his own; they are fierce and angry, and when she speaks, it’s like fire from her lungs: "You deserve better."

 

End of Part One. 


	2. The Thelonious Bride     Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa arrive at Thelonious.

_Arkadia had grown paranoid, quickly. The Heathens from the east had retreated further into their dense woodlands, with no explanation, they had just left, abruptly, suddenly. Clarke and her parents hid the injured warrior woman away in their barn, apart from the suspicious townsfolk. It was a risk to aid the tribal woman, now more than ever. In a matter of days, the alliance between Arkadia and the Germanic tribes had been shaken, disturbed, questioned, and Arkadia’s future was left in an uncertain haze._

_When people are afraid of losing the ones they love, they can do reckless things._

_Clarke wants answers. “Where have your people gone?”_

_The woman does not react; she watches the angry blonde stomp around the barn demanding answers to half thought-out questions._

_“We were working together! I don’t understand. Help me understand, please.”_

_The warrior remains expressionless._

_“I found you near death, poisoned – I helped you! You own me,” Clarke stops in front of the woman, who lays silently upon a pile of furs and hay, seemingly undisturbed by the healer._

_“Please, Anya. I need to know if we are in danger here.”_

_The warrior doesn’t speak right away, and Clarke sighs, almost ready to leave when Anya finally talks; she says two words that change everything. Two words to confirm all of Clarkes deepest fears. Two powerful, damning words. “Run, Clarke.”_

_Clarke swallows her next words. They are nothing against the fear that is all-consuming; paralysing in its intensity._

_“Take your family and run. Rome is coming.”_

_Clarke blinks. That is why they have all retreated, beyond the Rhine. A Roman army is coming. “You’re a scout,” Clarke says._

_Anya nods. “I managed to escape. Others must have as well if my people are pulling back.”_

_“Escape?”_

_“A Roman captain. He is called The Mountain. He is brutality in human form. He doesn’t just kill; he crushes souls.”_

_For the first time, since Anya had been with Clarke and her family, she looks afraid._

_“There may be hope,” Anya says, surprising the healer with her tone._

_“What? What can we do?” Clarke doesn’t care that she is pleading._

_“There is a warrior, a leader, among my people. She is uniting us – all of the clans.”_

_The Germanics have battled each other for centuries. The threat of Rome – The Mountain – has pushed them together, finally. “You’re making an army. You’re fighting back.”_

_Anya’s chin lifts with pride. “We are.”_

_Clarke is amazed. “Who is she?”_

* * *

Later in the night, when most of the Roman soldiers are asleep, Lexa lays on the ground next to Clarke who is busy counting stars.

"You’re staring," Clarke says, keeping her eyes on the sky.

Lexa smiles softly. "Did you have a good talk with Octavia?"

"Servilius has control over all of the legions in the area. There is a score of Romans watching them constantly. They are trapped."

“We will find a way, Clarke.” Lexa’s tone is both soft and firm.

“I thought you might be mad,” Clarke breaths, anxiously, letting herself lose count of the Greek constellations. She knows that this whole intervention was a reckless move.

Lexa knows that this is about more than just Octavia. “I am not. This landowner may have information on the legions we are looking for.”

“You’re already making a plan,” Clarke notes.

“Of course. We must adapt to every new situation.”

“Of course,” Clarke smirks.

* * *

In the morning, the convoy packs up the supplies and covers the smoking embers with dirt before continuing the short journey to Thelonious. Clarke walks close Bellamy, waiting for a chance to speak with him without the other Romans listening.

Octavia watches the trees closely from her place on the horse.

Bellamy watches the road, steely, strong, he marches onwards, occasionally glancing back towards Octavia’s steed. Eventually, he notices Clarke hovering near him and starts to slow his steps so that they can drift to the back of the group.

"We have a plan. Almost." Clarke announces quietly, keeping her eyes on the rest of the guards ahead of them.

Bellamy shakes his head. "That doesn’t fill me with confidence."

"We wait until we reach Thelonious; then we will sneak you both out in the middle of the night."

"And go where?" Bellamy sounds frustrated. He has likely thought of all these things before.

"We’ll figure it out," Clarke assures him. "Trust me," She says before slipping to the side of the convoy, closer to Lexa.

Lexa gives her a small nod of encouragement. Whatever happens here, Lexa is still on her side, and Clarke takes a small amount of comfort from that knowledge.

* * *

The road grows wider as they reach Thelonious. It’s a decent sized farming town. The midday sun is harsh but slowly fading, and all the guards gather around a shallow well in the town centre, drawing up bucket after bucket of cool water.

A well-adorned man with an armed escort strolls into the town centre to greet the convoy. “Welcome! Welcome to Thelonious! I am Thane, the Town’s lord. I trust the journey was swift.”

“We had some trouble. Nothing that couldn’t be handled,” one of the Roman soldier’s remarks, puffing out his chest and a few of his companions laugh, nodding their heads.

Bellamy steps forward. “Yes, we were aided by these two brave warriors,” he gestures to Lexa and Clarke.

They acknowledge the man briefly, trying to remain inconspicuous. Lexa scowls at Bellamy and Clarke rest her hand between Lexa’s shoulder blades, subtly trying to placate the warrior. 

Thane observes them with narrowed eyes. “Then I invite you to stay the night, as my honoured guests! The local inn will give you a room and a hot meal, free of charge.”

“Thank you,” Clarke says.

“Bellamy, Octavia, you have both been introduced to my son, Atom,” he pushes the boy forward.

Atom is a serious-looking young man, closer to Octavia’s age than Lincoln. He greets Bellamy with a stiff nod before giving his hand to Octavia, offering to help her down from her ride.

The young bride ignores him, dismounting by herself with ease. Thane, still standing at the head of the greeting party, does not look pleased.

Bellamy shrugs. “Better get used to it, Atom.”

Octavia is lead towards the Lord’s house, the biggest, strongest-looking building in the whole town. Bellamy tries to follow but is pushed back by one of Thane’s guards. The convoy itself disperses, eager to enjoy the town’s taverns and brothels.

* * *

The inn is one of the most pleasant things about Thelonious. The keeper is a charming old man who promises the best beef stew in town, a hot bath and to wash all their travel clothes for the coming morning. After chugging a mug of bitter Ale, Clarke promises to beat several patrons at a game of cards but doesn’t when Lexa refuses to give her their silver to gamble away. When they have eaten their fill, the pair retires to the room provided. 

“I don’t trust any of these people,” Lexa states, laying her sword and sheath upon the long wooden table by the window. It is a simple room, one large bed with scratchy sheets, an old wonky table, and a dirty chair lodged in the corner.

Clarke rolls her eyes and sits on the bed, which she immediately notes, is lumpy and hard. The ground might be more comfortable. “You don’t trust anyone.”

Lexa turns away from her, choosing to watch the town work and bustle through the rag covered window, rather than engage with the tipsy healer, who has been on the edge of a self-reckoning since they both left Arkadia.

The Ale has filled Clarke with confidence and bravado. “I’m going to talk to Octavia.” She rises and quickly leaves their room.

Once the door closes, Lexa releases a long, shaky breath.

The room is very quiet.

* * *

_“Are you sure this is what you want to do?” Jake asks, tying the last of the supplies to his old steed._

_“Someone has to go.” Clarke sounds confident, though her eyes give her away every time._

_Jake looks back at the house, helpless, then back at his daughter. “Clarke… Why you?” When Clarke looks away, biting her cheek, he smiles and pats the horse. “You take care of my girl," his voice cracks, “It’s the only good horse I have left.”_

_Clarke rushes to him, wrapping her arms around his neck._

_Jake holds his only child close and tries not to break apart. “Be careful.”_

_“Anya trusts me. That’s why it must be me. She won’t let anything happen to me.”_

_Jake nods against her hair, trying to remember everything about this moment, mentally begging the spirits to keep her safe. “Don’t make me come after you,” he says fiercely._

_Clarke smiles against his neck. “It’s okay, dad. I’ll be okay. Trust me.”_

_They let each other go._

_“Tell mum, I’m sorry.”_

_Jake chuckles. “I’m not telling her. I’m hoping that she won’t notice.”_

_Clarke laughs, a wet, pained laugh. “Dad…”_

_“I love you. Come home. Okay?”_

_“Okay.” Clarke really hopes that she will return home, eventually._

* * *

Clarke manages to sneak inside Lord Thane’s home. It was easy, there were no guards around, oddly. Plus, the door wasn’t locked, so it was hardly an effort. The house is grey with colourful silks hanging in every room and every hallway. She tries not to think about the tension between her and Lexa. Her anger is fading into something more like guilt. If she stops, she’ll think about it all, and it might smother her, so she can’t stop, not yet.

Atom rounds a corner and is stunned still; he is surprised to see the Clarke in his home, heading for his betroths chambers. “What are doing here?” He approaches her cautiously.

“Octavia wants me to be a bridesmaid,” Clarke replies snarkily.

Atom doesn’t seem affected by the attitude, he looks back down the corridor nervously, as if trying to decide if he should say something else or not. After an awkward second, Atom clears his throat. “My father recognised your friend. He knows who she is, and he has sent all of the guards to your room.”

“All of them?” Clarke can’t think. Her instincts want her to run back to Lexa, dagger raised high, ready to fight – which would be foolish, she is not a warrior, not like Lexa. “I should have known. Lexa knew it was a risk.” She starts to blame herself, for everything.

“I will help you,” says Atom, suddenly, interrupting Clarke’s downward thoughts.

“Why would you help us?” Clarke doesn’t understand. “Why would you want to fight against your father?”

Atom looks down. “Octavia is not the only one being forced into a marriage.”

Clarke’s eyes darken. Thane is the one who rules this situation. Clarke will start with him. “Where is your father now?”

* * *

Bellamy can be heard yelling inside the room, demanding to see his sister.

Clarke and Atom walk into Thane’s study side by side which stuns the room for a second.

Two of the convoy’s Roman soldiers are with Bellamy, trying to keep him controlled. Thane sighs, nods to them and they grab Bellamy by his bicep. “Come on, lad. It’s time to go.”

Bellamy rips his arm away. “No! I want to see my sister.” He turns to Atom. “Where is she?”

Atom looks between Clarke and Bellamy, not sure how to react. He just really hopes that Clarke has a plan.

“I have told you, again and again, that she is safe. Now leave my house.” Thane sits down at his desk like he’s bored.

“I don’t have any patience left.” Clarke reaches over, withdraws Atom’s knife from his belt and holds it against the boy’s neck. Atom does not resist. “Call off your guards!”

Thane’s eyes widen for a moment before he sits back, a little too comfortable. “It’s too late. They are all gone. The Warrior Heda is most likely dead by now.”

“I thought Caesar wanted her alive…” Her other hand glides over her own blade, sheathed at her hip, just in case she needs to throw it into his chest.

“Not anymore.” He smiles, sickly. “Now he just wants her head.”

“Bellamy!” Clarke chucks Atom’s knife to him, and he catches it readily.

Atom swiftly brings out his sword and puts himself between Bellamy and the Roman guards.

The soldiers hesitate not wanting to hurt Atom, and this lets Bellamy and Atom attack first, keeping the guards on the stuck defensive.

Thane stands, slapping his palms on the desk as he rises. “Stop this, boy!”

“Run, Clarke!” Atom yells.

Clarke hesitantly walks out, before breaking into a sprint down the empty corridor.

END OF PART TWO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is still entertaining for you :)
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please drop a comment or Kudo's to let me know that liked it! Let me know if there are any improvements I can make or if you want anything specific to happen within the story/universe. 
> 
> It is still very Clarke (The 100) themed atm -- Lexa takes more of the spotlight around chapter 5 and then it becomes more mythological, ancient gods and fantasy-like.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know you liked it and want more chapters by dropping comment and/or clicking bookmark/kudo's... All feedback welcomed! This is just for fun. I have always wanted to do this crossover. Random characters from the 100 will appear all the time.  
> I stopped writing these sort of things (fanfiction) after 307 (That really hurt, huh?) But... after a looooong while, the fandom has reinspired me. Here is just my little contribution. I hope you like it and please let me know if you do. Okay. That's it. Thanks again!


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